


Memories of Ghosts

by Mokisaur



Series: The Cauldwell Legacy [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nephalem, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mokisaur/pseuds/Mokisaur
Summary: Caleb Stirling has been many people and many things. He has blood on his hands and guilt that eats at his mind.Worse, though, are the unanswered questions that he constantly has about himself.Why has he stopped aging? How can he feel the emotions of people? Why do people get hurt when he gets close?Those and hundreds more plague him daily, along with frequent dejavu and reoccuring dreams.His answers come after 200 years of searching most unexpectedly.





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> This follow's Kelstai's life after the events of "The Price of Sins."  
> Same timeline.

Confused and frightened, the little boy clings tightly to the furry scruff of the large animal he's riding to keep himself from falling off. He's crying, yet he doesn't know why. Looking around as the terrain flies by, he sees other animals running close on either side, and after blinking away the tears he realizes these are wolves. He can't remember ever seeing a wolf, yet somehow he knows that is what they are.

_Hold tight, little two-legs._

A voice is heard, but he isn't sure from where. Wide eyes of gold drop down to the wolf on which he rides and the beast turns his head enough for his own golden-amber eye to look back at the him. The boy realizes that the voice had come from the wolf and his grip tightens on the scruff. He tries to remember what happened to lead to this, but everything before now doesn't exist, as if it never had. Upon his back, secured by shoulder straps, is a bag packed full of things he doesn't know, but he feels it's weight. It helps to keep him planted on the wolf's back.

The forest through which the pack runs is thick and quiet except for the sounds of many paws drumming and kicking up debris behind them, their panted breaths, and song birds twittering happily. He isn't able to judge the time, but it feels like they run for hours before the trees begin to thin and their run slows to an energy saving jog. Then, at last, they stop together as a unit where forest meets field, still covered in the safety of the trees. Across the field, the boy can see signs of human civilization; fenced in livestock, small thatch-roofed houses with white smoke streaming from chimneys, and freshly turned soil in other fields.

The wolf lowers, crouching enough so the boy can slide off easily. His legs aren't steady just yet after being jarred and clutching tightly to the beast's sides, so he collapsed down onto his bottom with a soft thump. Panting his laughter, the wolf leans forward to nose the boy's shoulder. There is some comfort in the warm and wet nose, but he feels lost. Another beast moves forward; unlike the one he rode who was dark brown and cream furred, she was silvery dusted with darker gray.

_This is where we part ways, little one. You shall be safe amongst the human pack._

She speaks, and yet the boy does not see her mouth move. This confuses him even more.  
"I don't understand." He whimpers, suddenly feeling alone despite the pack surrounding him. "Where am I?" It dawns on him that he does not even know his own name. He knows nothing other than what has just happen. "What.. what is happening?" He could feel the hot sting of tears welling in his eyes once more.

The silvery female steps forward and lowers down to lay beside him and licks his little hand. Her warmth is comforting and makes him feel less afraid.  
 _There is much in this world you will not understand and that is the way it is meant to be. I do not understand how the fur upon your head is the color of glittering fish scales and makes my own look like dirty snow._  
At the mention of his head "fur", the boy looks up at some pieces hanging down in his face and finds they are pure white with a high shine that makes it appear silver. She continues to speak.

_You shall find out who you are when you join the human pack. Who you were before no longer matters. The wolf who is always looking behind will never see what comes before them._  
He finds wisdom in her words, even for how small he is and ignorant to the world.

_We made a promise to your father to deliver you to safety so that you may live. As far as we know, this was his last living request._  
Now it is the dark wolf who speaks, and the boy turns his head towards him. He wants to look the wolf in the eyes, but finds the gaze too intense and looks away. This information sticks in his brain, but he isn't sure how to process it. He has a father, yet cannot remember anything about him. Or, according to the wolf, he _had_ a father.

"I'm scared." He can feel his lower lip trembling.

_Be not afraid, sweet little one. There is strength inside you. Some day, you will find that strength. Some day, you will find out why all of this is how it is. Some day, you will understand._ The she-wolf rests her large head in his lap while her gentle amber eyes look up to him.

_And,_ her mate adds in. _We will be watching. There is an ancient bond between the pack of this forest and the blood within you. Whatever it is you may need, call upon us and we will be there._

A deep sigh is released from the boy. More confusion. His head is spinning now. The dark wolf rises to his feet, then so too does his mate. Not leaving his side just yet, the silver wolf nudges him gently with her nose and urges him to his feet. Reluctant, he gets up and finds strength has returned to his legs once more. Tears finally spill down his round little cheeks and he flings his arms around the she-wolf's furry neck, burying his face into it. She lowers her head over his shoulder and allows him the few moments he needs to express his emotions. Finally, the boy releases her and wipes his eyes on his arm, then looks towards the field again.

_Go now and be with your people._ She says reassuringly.

With a single nod, he gives the pack one last look before he turns in the direction of the village and starts running as fast as his little legs can take him.


	2. Adolescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some implied non-con and underaged sex. Fair warning.

Caleb lifts his head from pulling weeds out of the vegetable garden as a wolf howls somewhere in the distance. A small smile forms upon his lips as he imagines the pack gathering over a fresh kill. The sun sits low in the sky, dusk coloring it with pastel pinks and oranges against blue. Locks of silver are tied in a fashionable queue, but some of the silky strands have slipped free into his face and fall well past his chin.

"Caleb!" A woman's voice calls from the side of their house. She is a few years past middle aged with wrinkles from years working in the sun. Once a dark auburn, her hair is now nearly as white as his own. Her dress is simple; linen dyed light blue with flowers embroidered around the neckline. It reaches her ankles and has half length sleeves with lightly ruffled hems. If she were younger, it would have been cinched around the waist. No longer did she have the physique of girls closer to his own age; she was rounded and wide, though not particularly fat.

"Caleb!" She calls again, her pitch rising.

Snapping out of his imagination, he turns his head and squints golden eyes towards the woman to make her out in the distance. Seeing he acknowledges her at last, she smiles before yelling again.

"Come in and wash up. Dinner is near done."

"Yes, mother." Caleb calls back to her and stands from his crouched position.

Not quite a boy, and not yet a man, he stands tall already, with attractive and sharp features. His almond eyes were slightly hooded, cheekbones high, and his chin and jawline strong. Caleb looks more like nobility than simply one of the common people.

He washes and helps his mother finish preparing dinner just in time for his father to join. As a family, they sit and eat and share any news or gossip they may have heard during the day. Life is pleasant in their small farming village. He enjoys falling asleep to the wolves howling at the edge of the forest, bidding him a good night.  
When the sun rises, so does Caleb. His morning is busy, but he doesn't mind. Animals need tending, the gardens need watering, and then more water needs fetching. During the afternoon, he goes to market with the list of supplies needed, or sometimes just to browse and talk with people. He is different from the rest of them, but it isn't bad. People seem to enjoy his company. As afternoon fades, Caleb is returning home with everything they have requested, and then he returns to the garden for weeding and listening to the pack sing of their kill.

As he grows older, his pleasant life does not change much. He notices, though, that he is changing. He notices small things about himself that seem unusual, other than how he looks. Not only do people enjoy talking to him, but they find comfort in being around him. Wherever he goes, there is a calmness that follows and infects others. Emotions become easier to judge, and trust is easier to gain. There are other changes, too, in the way he feels for some people. For the first time, he indulges in lustful passion with a girl who has been sweet on him for some time. It becomes addicting, this new vice, and does not stop with her. He no longer keeps count of the girls he romps in the hay with, and soon earns a reputation amongst the young men of his own age. Most simply remain envious and silently resent him, but a few are curious. One nightly partner turns into two, turns into three, and soon it is out of hand. Caleb discovers he has a way of manipulating people, and he uses this to his advantage to feed his addiction further by convincing those he beds to do things they normally wouldn't, things they regret come the morning after. It spirals out of control, he's caught. 

It is his father that walks into the barn that night and witnesses the depravity his own son is partaking in and urging on. A girl is bound and gagged, a boy having his way with her, and Caleb having his way with the boy.

Caleb has never seen or felt rage like this before. Nor has he ever felt pain like this before. While his father is beating him as hard as his arms will swing, the other two are freed and escape from Caleb's coercion. His father was not without mercy in his beating; he wasn't a violent man by nature. Only when Caleb was no longer trying to fight back did the beating cease. There on the barn floor, he spent the night cold and hurting. Morning comes and Caleb manages to clean himself of blood and dirt, then painfully slides back into his clothing.   
He hears two sets of footsteps that he dreads, his heart races as they come closer and closer - this is worse than the beating. When the barn doors open, already swollen and blackened eyes squint against the light. His heart feels as though it has leaped into his throat and his stomach turns. An audible gasp is heard from his mother as she takes in the state of her son, his father's hands are bandaged and bruised. Suddenly, Caleb feels again like the scared and confused boy upon the back of a wolf. Hot tears stream down his cheeks, stinging the various open wounds. He can sense their shame and disgust as if it were his own and it hurts far worse than the physical pain. From his father, he can feel the rage boiling inside of him, his mother is filled with disappointment and sorrow.

"Were you just biding your time, demon?" His father almost growls.

"I'm not a demon!" Caleb shakes his head, panicking. It was not the first time someone had named him such.

"Lies!" Father barks. "It was a mistake to take you from the forest. A parasite, that is what you are. A minion of the devil!"

His mother is visibly disturbed by such accusations, but she can't bring herself to defend against them. She turns her sad gaze onto her son.

"Mother, please! I'm not a demon, I'm not evil! Please... I just... I need help. I don't know what's happening. Please, momma..." Caleb begs her. He can't see clearly through the flood of tears as he sobs. Feeling his knees growing weak, he lowers down to a squat before he drops onto his rear. Knees draw in close to his chest and he buries his face into them. His body shakes with the sobs.

She can't deny her son comfort, even when her husband grabs her arm to keep her back. She jerks it out of his grasp and rushes to her son. Dropping to her knees beside him, she draws him into her arms and holds him tight while cooing soothingly to him.

"I know you aren't, my sweet boy. You have always been my little angel. Shhh..." Gently, she rocks him back and forth in her arms. "You've just lost your way, that's all." She lowers her head to the top of his and begins to hum softly. It helps to calm his trembling sobs. His father sneers at both of them.

"You wouldn't coddle him like so if it had been you to witness what he was doing. She was tied like a hog, Abigail! And... he was _sodomizing_ a boy, orchestrating the whole thing, and enjoying it!" His father is practically roaring.

"I'm so sorry..." Caleb says while he weeps.

His mother frowns and casts her husband a sharp glare. "Get out, Elbert!" She says, just as sharp as her glare.

Elbert mutters curses beneath his breath and turns to walk briskly out of the barn, slamming shut the doors.

In the dark and quiet with only his mother, Caleb is able to get a handle on his sobbing and slowly he leans away from her to wipe away remaining tears from his bruised face.

"How long has this been happening?" She asks in a gentle voice while tucking a loose silver strand behind his ear.

"I think... it started at least three years ago. Maria was my first and... I couldn't stop. I knew I shouldn't be doing it but I couldn't stop myself. What if there is evil in me?" Though Caleb is almost a man grown, he looks to his mother with fear in his eyes, resembling the frightened child she had found so many years past.

"Nonsense! If that is evil, then there is evil in all men. We didn't warn you of how you change as you grow up, part of this is our fault. All men have these urges, my darling."

"Then why is father so upset?"

"He has the fear of his Gods in him now, but he was not so different from you when he was of this age."

Caleb considers this for a moment and accepts it, but then adds, "How do I control it?"

Before she could answer, though, Caleb notices smoke rising between the small spaces of the wooden planks. His own woes are forgotten about.

"Mother!" 

He's out of her arms in seconds and on his feet, running towards the doors to open them, but they're locked. He throws his weight against the doors, they bow slightly but don't break. Smoke is filling the barn rapidly, stinging his eyes and lungs. Flames begin to lick at the door, thwarting his attempts of breaking it down. The door is not the only place where flames hungrily devour the wood - it's everywhere. He panics. His mother is coughing, and he is as well. The only other way out is the hay loft, but there is more smoke up there and the drop would likely kill his mother.

Refusing to give up, Caleb hurries to grab a hoe off of the wall it hangs and returns to the doors. His physical pain is forgotten as he hacks away at the compromised wood, all of his strength behind each blow. Fire claims each open space he creates, and yet assists in weakening the wood even more. His breathing becomes a wheeze, gasping for fresh air. His mother is already unconscious. Pieces of the roof start raining down and ignites the interior which spreads rapidly with the amount of straw and hay. Another blow against the door breaks through and sends the door swinging open. Flames feast upon the new oxygen, erupting in a sudden burst that sends Caleb onto his back without the strength to get back up. Desperate, he crawls towards his mother, and then the world is black and nothingness.

Howling voices...

Sharp pains on either arm...

Screaming...

He awakens suddenly as something heavy makes impact with his chest and forces out the smoke trapped in his lung as a black cloud from his mouth. He gasps and coughs and wheezes, throat raw and burning. Eyes open to blurred vision; around him he can only make out dark colored blobs with burning yellow orbs that he can only assume are eyes. Instantly, he knows they are wolves.

"Mother..." He croaks.

_She belongs to the fire now._

He can't make out which one replied, but it doesn't matter.

_You must get on your feet, Scale-Hair!_ An old name that is still used affectionately. _Get up, or her death is for naught!_ The growl is quiet, but there.

Slowly, Caleb rolls to his side and carefully pushes himself up to sit. His vision clears a little, enough to notice blood trickling down both arms from where teeth had taken hold to drag his body. Soon the entire village would gather, and he knew if he came out of that alive then they would believe the things his father says. For a lingering moment, he watches the barn collapse in on itself. Yet more tears streak his soot blackened face, but he forces himself to stand. Caleb turns his back to the fire, and slowly returns to where he came, escorted by the whole pack. He must vanish and start over. He must learn to be something he is not.


	3. Adulthood

He has been many people. He has many different names.   
Time marches on around him while he stands still, watching his world change.   
Sometimes, when left alone with his thoughts, he wonders if the wolves had not pulled him out of that fire... would it have taken him? He wonders so many things, and has no answers.

By thirty, he has nearly mastered his abilities with emotions. Manipulation becomes second nature, reading becomes first. As if they have cut a vein wide open and bleed out raw emotion, it is all there for him to see as clear as the day is bright... and yet he knows not why. He can quell the rage within a person and bring them to peace effortlessly. Emotional scars left by past traumas are painlessly healed. He is hailed a miracle in some places, a work of the great divine. They don't know his darker side. They don't know the thirst he will not allow himself to quench. They are oblivious to the atrocities he has committed. Before his name becomes well known, before bonds can be formed, he is gone without a trace of having ever been there.

By forty, he realizes he is not human. Aging has ceased as far as he is able to tell. Things invisible to others seem blatantly obvious to him. He must adjust to their level to fit in, to avoid attracting attention more than he already does. Sometimes this isn't possible, such as when he heals flawlessly within a day from an injury that might take someone else weeks, or when he is able to exhibit strength beyond what should be possible.

Sixty and seventy fly by as he takes up traveling the globe. He absorbs new cultures and hungrily soaks in information. People have become experiments for him. He tests the limits of his abilities or to see if something new will arise, often acting carelessly. Knowing he will vanish like a spirit, he allows himself to indulge in darker temptations. Violence does not come easy for him, but he explores all avenues. 

At long last, he encounters others who are different like he is, others who are not quite human. For the first time, he feels like he belongs, like he is not alone in his differences. Questions eternally harbored still cannot be answered, however. No one knows what, exactly, he is. They claim he is both a child of darkness and a child of light. These conflicting ideas only bring forth more questions rather than answers.

A century and five decades has passed since his birth and the only thing that changes is the world. He remains the same, only mastering the powers he knows. His cocksure ways die down as he finishes sating each and every sinful curiosity. Boredom has settled in as he nears his second century, the only thing that holds his attention is the ever changing world. It is nothing like it once was, there are far more people, and he has become increasingly harder to hide who he is with advancing technologies. 

Everyone and everything he once knew is gone. Old landmarks or dilapidated buildings he once haunted are torn down as the urban jungle spreads. He returns home to a place that is entirely unrecognizable. The forest has been reduced to sparse woods. The sound of wolves singing is absent; either they had migrated to better hunting grounds, or became the hunted. His village, once a rural speck of civilization, was now a bustling city, alive even throughout the wee hours of night and morning. He visits the place where his homestead once was; even then it had been far enough away from the center of the village to be considered rural. Some of it remains, but was modified. A new house stands in place of the small thatch-roofed one he grew up in. Fencing is sectioned differently, and there is a new barn. Though subtle, he can still see evidence of where the other one had burned to the ground. It is more than the physical scars, he can see even the emotional scars of the trauma he endured there, the pain his mother suffered, though brief.   
Here is where it all started, and he is no closer to understanding anything.

Things are about to change, however. In ways he cannot even fathom.


	4. Chapter 4

Something is amiss.  
His dreams as of late have been strange and vivid, filled with ghosts of memories that he does not know. He feels a sense of being watched wherever it is he goes, yet he is unable to discover who or what it might be. 

Adopting his old name again, Caleb temporarily plants himself in the village-turned-city. It is decently sized with a population around ten-thousand or so. He begins changing his appearance to camouflage himself. His hair is cut short and dyed unsuspecting brown, and though highly disliked, he wears colored contacts to mask the gold of his eyes to a handsome blue. During his years wandering, he picked up many trades while dropping others, but some were favored and thus stuck with him over time. Oddly enough, he enjoys baking. It is a simple enough art, yet widely appreciated and it's results delicious and beautiful. From that alone, he earns quite the profit. 

There are things this modern world has offered he enjoys with a passion; the amount of books printed seems endless, and music so greatly diverse he could be entertained for days. For the last six decades he has played guitar, teaching himself popular songs, making his own, and even translating other kinds of music to fit the instrument. Mostly, it's for his own enjoyment, but often he shares the hobby with others who enjoy it, too. In fact, he spends most of his free time sharing a great many things including his time, labor, money, music, and skills as a baker and cook. Although much has changed, it keeps him busy, which drives the boredom and unending questions out of the front of his mind. He makes a habit of exploring every inch of the city with nightly jogs and walks, each time down a new street. There are some places with heavy emotional scars, telling of some awful even that happened there a lifetime ago. None of these, however, compare to a site he comes across on the far edges of town. 

So heavy is the weight of trauma it physically stuns him, it draws him in. It is as if it is truly his own and he cannot escape it. It is so like his dreams with an uneasy sense of familiarity. A deja vu unlike any other. His mind reels as an excess of information floods it all at once, too much to make any one thing out clearly. It is like white static, like a thousand voices morphed into one collective noise, like the world's collection of movies all playing at the same time within a matter of minutes. He cannot escape it, he cannot break himself free from it. It is so overly consuming. This small run down log cabin, overgrown and forgotten, home now to the woodland creatures and vines. He feels it will rip him apart from the inside out. It is too much to process, too much to handle. 

And just as he begins to accept this will be his fate, out of the shadowed darkness steps a tall man, and it all comes to a halt. 

The silence is startling and deafening. He can practically hear the blood rushing through his veins as his heart races. His focus is entirely on the man who is coming towards him with a slow and casual gait, as if nothing were wrong at all. Caleb feels nothing from him, his emotions so well guarded it was as if they didn't exist at all. While emotions cannot be felt, Caleb can sense him in other ways. Ways he cannot explain, as if able to read the very currents in the air. He knows this feeling. It is so specific, so familiar, and so unknown. He is certain he knows it, yet he is certain he doesn't. In silence, only the grass softly crunching below his well polished shoes, the man continues forward. 

Caleb isn't sure when he hit the ground, but he realizes he is there, now. He can't make out the man's face just yet; this place is so far on the city's edge there is no artificial light. Only the half full moon offers light, which isn't enough even for his advanced sight. The man stops within a few steps and slowly crouches down to Caleb's level where he can now make out his features. It's startling, he is seeing so much of himself in this man's face, though his has more signs of age with subtle wrinkles. Their eyes are the same shape, their face shape the same, even the shape and height of the cheekbones. There is a tingling within his brain of something he can't quite recall, but knows it is there. He wants to speak, but his mouth has forgotten how to form words. He stares, and the man stares back with an odd expression on his face. Caleb realizes he's being studied - thoroughly. The man takes in every little detail about him. Gradually, Caleb begins feeling the slightest emotions from this familiar stranger. Those are even more surprising.

Sorrow. Guilt. Anger. Remorse. Joy. Relief. Worry.

He speaks.

"Ah have waited so long for this day to come." His voice is thick with the dialect of the region, an easy drawl with a deep and comforting tone. 

Caleb feels tears on his cheeks for reasons he doesn't know.  
"Yoar life will never be the same from this moment on. Ah realize you may resent me for this, but moreso Ah hope you understand what Ah did was necessary for yoar survival." He smiles... something about that smile fills him with happiness. It looks good on the man's otherwise somber face, and it reaches his eyes to make the edges of them crinkle.

The man reaches forward and places his hand on the side of Caleb's face. "It is time now to wake up, mah son."

He barely hears the odd words he utters, as once they start, there is a new mental flood. Like gates unlocking, the memories rush forth and spread. A sense of who and what he is suddenly manifests itself into the very core of his being. For a few moments, though, he is once more a little boy.

_His parents were so happy and in love, with each other and him. They smiled constantly, speaking softly to him, playing games with him. He was a happy child. Daddy is silver haired and golden eyed, Papa has soft brown hair and eyes the color of the ocean. He has family all around him, uncles that love to play with him and spoil him. They move frequently, and sometimes he can tell something is wrong. Papa is angry, but not at Daddy. It's rare they ever fight. His uncles fought with Papa all the time, though. Daddy takes him out to play when they start yelling. He loves playing with Daddy. Papa is better for going on adventures, he liked to teach things in a hands-on fashion. Daddy would hold him when he got hurt and cried, but Papa made sure the lesson was learned if it was his own fault._

_Summers were filled with picking blueberries with Daddy and giggling at the stains on his hands. Daddy would pretend to be mad when he was eating more than harvesting. Summers were riding on Papa's shoulders high in the air and running around pretending to fly. Summer was always the best. His uncles went away for a while and he was sad, but they promised to come back. Daddy explained they had very important things they had to take care of so they could stay a happy family. There were bad people that didn't want them all to be together. They moved again, somewhere far, far away in the forest. It was a little log cabin but he loved it. Papa took him into the forest to teach him about hunting and tracking. Papa introduced him to wolves, even though Daddy really didn't like it. These wolves were Papa's friends and wouldn't harm his son. In fact, they played with him often. In the winter, they helped his family hunt. In the spring, he played with wolf pups and took rides on the adults that would allow it._

_There was more fighting at home, he could tell Papa and Daddy were scared about something. Papa tried to hide it well, but sometimes he found him by himself in tears but promising everything would be okay. Summer came and he was excited. Instead of blueberries with Daddy or flying on Papa's shoulders... there was war._

_Those bad people came. Daddy was crying so much, yelling, scared, panicked. Papa was trying all he could to calm him down but he had to get him... me to safety. I wasn't safe there. The bad people had come to take me away. Daddy kissed me and told me he loved me so much. Papa put a heavy bag on my shoulders and he carried me out of the back of the house. We were running and I could hear the sounds of fighting at the cabin. Metal against metal, war cries. I could hear my uncles joining the fray. I could hear Daddy. I was scared, Papa tried his best to comfort me but he was so scared too._

_We were running to the wolves and the whole pack was waiting for us. I had never seen Papa cry like this. I never felt him hurt like this. It made me more scared. He told me the wolves would keep me safe while he joined Daddy to make sure they wouldn't take me away. I didn't want to go away. I didn't want Papa to leave. I hugged him hard and he hugged me back and told me I was the best thing in the world that ever happened to him. He promised he would come back for me. He promised we would be a family again. But first I had to go with the wolves. First I had to be hidden so the bad people wouldn't find me. He put me on the head wolf's back and I held on like Papa told me to. He leaned down to kiss my head and said he loved me again, and then some words I didn't know._

_I'm confused and frightened, clinging to the furry scruff of a large wolf I'm riding to keep from falling off. I'm crying, but I don't know why..._

The void that has always been is filled. He is whole again. 

Kelstai realizes he is weeping, his whole body trembling with the force of it and he is in his father's arms who is doing all he can to induce a sense of peace into his mind. He inherited that trait, he realizes. His emotions run rampant and he feels everything at once until each has run it's course. Slowly and gradually, he gains control over them again and pulls himself together while pushing out of his father's arms. 

This might have been his father, but he hadn't known him for nearly two centuries and wasn't about to allow himself to get so close so suddenly.

"Ah understand." his father says simply while he adjusts to sit cross legged.

Curiously, Kelstai looks at him. He understands what, exactly? Remaining tears are wiped on his sleeve.

"That you don't want to open yoarself to a stranger." His father answers the thought aloud. "And yes, Ah do hear what you think. You only inherited a minor part of mah full ability." He smirks a little and reaches into the pocket of the blazer he has on. This man, his father, is dressed sharply, looking like he belongs on a bed of cash rather than on the ground getting dirt and grass on his expensive clothes. 

From a pocket within, he produces a small silver case of cigarettes and pulls one out, yet doesn't use a lighter for the other end to light. The case snaps shut and he returns it to the pocket while taking a few puffs, then one long drag. Holding the hit in, he passes it over to Kelstai. Almost instinctively he takes it. A slow exhale of smoke pools around his father's head for a moment before the wind takes it away.

"Lucious did not survive that night." He says flatly, avoiding eye contact. Try as he might to hide it, Kelstai can still feel his pain as if it were still fresh and raw. To keep himself quiet, he finally takes the offered hit from the cigarette that was a little more than just tobacco.

"What Ah did was an act of desperation. Even now mah skills for weaving spells are limited, and then even more. The spell worked... too well Ah'm afraid. Ah could not locate you without risk of letting yoar whereabouts be known to other parties. Ah did not fare well after his death, either. Ah couldn't immediately go back for you as Ah was a risk to mahself, and most certainly would have been to you."

While he spoke, Kelstai noticed he had a hand touching a feather attached to a necklace about his neck. The feather itself had a unique feel, another one that was slightly familiar. For now he didn't bring up a question about it, and instead took another drag from the cigarette and let it work it's magic of calming his nerves and numbing him to any extra stress.

"By the time Ah had become stable again, you were gone from the village. Ah heard of what had happened from the wolves and they pointed me in yoar last direction, but our separation was too great. Ah never did stop searching. A few times mah faith in ever finding you failed, Ah will admit. Ah had trouble along the way, lost mah sense of direction many times."

His father looks up to him with eyes so eerily similar to his own, especially with his blue contacts in. Kelstai could tell he was searching for signs of anything. Hatred, approval, acceptance, malice... anything. 

He still wasn't sure what to think. For now, he was just listening.

"And this... is where it happened? Where he died?" Hesitant and careful he asked.

Across from him, his father nods. "Yes. And this is where his bones are buried. Luckily the city has expanded the opposite way and left this place untouched." He reaches forward for a hit from the joint, as it technically was. Kelstai passes it.

"Now what?" Bluntly asked, but he doesn't know what else to say.

"Ideally? You accept this and return to me to tell me of yoar life. We can be a family once more." He answers with the same bluntness. "But, Ah understand this is not likely to happen."

"Why not?" So far, he sees no reason to stop a rekindling.

"Because Ah also have a new family." The joint is placed between his lips and a long drag is taken into his lungs.

Kelstai stares at him, and yet again is unsure how to feel. He has been unsure this whole time.

"Oh." It's all he can say.

Down to a little nub threatening to burn his fingers, he snubs the joint in the grass while exhaling through his nostrils.

"Ah do not come empty handed, however. An opportunity has arrived with yoar return." He waits to see if his son has anything to add before continuing. "Charnell, mah wife, and Ah have been called to certain business within the Underealm and will be there for a considerable amount of time. We have a daughter, yoar sister, Arianna. You two are close in age, but already Ah know you are the level-headed one. Something you got from Lucious. Anyhow... there is a city not too far from the coast, New Versailles. Charlie and Ah had some properties there long ago that have remained untouched. Ah would grant these to you and Arianna, along with much of mah wealth. There is a business, something that you may particularly enjoy." There was a somewhat mischievous gleam in his eyes, even in the dark. "It was once a confectionery, and could be once more - or anything you wish. The other is a considerably large house with plenty of room for the both of you and then some."

"Why do you want me so close to your daughter?"

"Yoar sister, too." His father corrects. "And, because she... has many a thing to learn. She could use guidance outside of her parents. She could learn from you, and Ah believe you could learn from her, as well. You could learn about me without the stress of having to get to know me right away. Ah will be able to come for short visits if the need arises or in the event you feel comfortable enough to want me there."

He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling lightly at it as he does so. This is so much information to process. His brain feels fried. He wants the connection with his father, he wants what has been missing all this time... and yet there is too much distance that must be crossed first.

"What if I never get comfortable? What if I never want you around?" Kelstai quietly asks.

"Ah have considered that possibility. From here, anything can happen. In the following days and weeks you will face even more questions than answers, new memories will resurface, emotions will tend to go from one extreme to the next. It could be hatred that comes from this... and if so Ah am prepared to accept that."

Kelstai swallowed hard and knew his father's words were true. He had no clue how he'd feel about him in the long run. A shiver ran down his spine. His head hangs, eyes focused on the ground, arms now draped over his knees.

"What about the people that were after me? Won't they know of me now?" Sudden realization hits, his head snapping up to look up to his father.

"Quite possibly, yes." He answers casual and calm. "Ah have not released you entirely as you would quickly become a danger to yoarself. Ah think enough of what you are is suppressed to be safe."

"And that is...?" He still hadn't the faintest clue what he was, even if he felt more of an understanding of himself.

"Nephalem. Lucious was, for lack of a better word, an Angel. And Ah am--"

"Demon." Kelstai finishes for him.

His father chuckles softly. "Half correct. Mah mother was human. As a result, you are not as powerful as you could be, but it is still entirely too much to handle at once."

Once more, he falls into silence while processing this new information. Immediately he made sense of several traits about himself, including his urges for chaos and danger, his obsessive ways, how fierce his jealousy could be, or the way he sometimes dreams of violent ways of getting back at people. It explained his urges as a teenager that in turn got his mother killed. Connections were happening at several points and he felt he was going in circles with his thoughts.

"Stop." His father commands, though not unkindly.

Just like that, the cycle comes to a halt, mind quiet again.

"Kelstai," His father says his name for the first time, it sends a funny feeling deep inside. "Just as you learned control over the abilities you knew before, you will have to master these new ones as they arrive. Yoar empathic ways will be much stronger now, yoar own emotions amplified."

"And you just want to release me back into society like this?" The bite of anger in his voice wasn't hidden.

"Ah want you to be with yoar sister in an environment Ah know is safe for you both."

"I would hardly call two demon spawn living under the same roof 'safe'." From anger, he goes to sarcasm.

"You must trust me on this. It is far safer than the life you are living currently." His father is not affected by his change in mood. "Regardless of yoar decision, the property titles have already been transferred to both yoar names. Both properties are entirely paid for, all they need is renovation, which Ah would also fund."

"So, you knew I was coming? That I would be here?"

"You triggered a warning system Ah had in place about this town, in the event you ever returned to it. Ah knew you would find this place eventually."

Kelstai considers the weight of the options he is given. A new life is being handed to him with answers to so many questions, with ways to bridge the gaps he's always had. It goes against his careful and methodical ways of planning events out, yet it doesn't bother him terribly. He feels content in his father's presence, perhaps it would be the same with his sister.

"What are the risks?" Ever careful, he isn't one to jump head first without knowing the consequences.

"There is a chance the two of you will hate each other. She is likely more prone to violence than you may be used to. You may be discovered by those who wish you harm, but Ah have preparations if that event comes. Perhaps the most annoying risk will be yoar grandfather now being aware of where you are. He has assured me he no longer poses a threat but Ah have also learned not to trust him entirely. Arianna is quite close with him, though, so Ah would not be surprised if he visits unexpectedly."

"What about this wife of yours? Will she see me as a threat?"

That nearly made his father cackle. Instead, he suppressed it to an amused chuckle and shook his head. "Quite the opposite. If you were not mah offspring, she wouldn't care at all about yoar existence."

As he mulls over the information, crickets chirp to fill in the silence. Oddly, it is peaceful out here where so much turmoil happened. Slowly, Kelstai gets to his feet and dusts himself off and his father follows. It's a gamble, he realizes, but the odds are more in his favor than against.

"Alright. If you are certain it's safe, I'll do it."

A large beaming smile takes over his father's face, lighting it up with the joy Kelstai feels radiating from him. He takes another step towards his son, both hands laying on either side of his face.

"Ah used to think you were the spitting image of Lucious, yet in that disguise Ah feel as if Ah am looking into a mirror of the past." He says fondly while searching his son's eyes. Kelstai can feel his love, but cannot yet reciprocate it. His hands fall away back to his own sides.

"Why do you sound different... from the memories?" It bothered him somewhat, this accent that seemed displaced.

For a moment, Nicholas seemed a touched confused as he mulled over the past himself.  
"Ah was still fairly young - compared to what Ah am now - and had not stayed in one place long much of mah life. Most of mah time spent after that day was around these parts and the deep south in general. It wore off on me after some time, as Ah suspect it might have with you already." His grin was knowing.

He says nothing in response but the man was right. Every so often he found himself slipping into a drawl.

"Tomorrow, then. Ah shall meet you in New Versailles and show you the properties and we can discuss ideas about them." Nick says.

Kelstai nods, suddenly feeling how real this is.

"It brings me such joy to have you back, mah boy. No matter the outcome, Ah love you and will not let you go again."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a WIP.  
> New Versailles is a fictional city very close to New Orleans and is the guild I currently RP in. [Check it out!](http://www.rprepository.com/g/newversailles)

The shop has undergone restoration and modern updating; Their home has been repaired and brought back to life to look new again. Nervously, he packs his bags with his few belongings. He has time to think in the couple of hours it takes to drive there, but he is no more ready for this than the night it was offered to him. The city's skyline comes into view, making his heart race faster, feeling as if it is trying to keep the same speed at which he drives. Would he love this new life? Resent his father ever restoring his memories? Would this just be yet another chapter he trudges through with boredom? So many questions. Always so any questions. He hopes to find more answers as he passes a large billboard that reads "Welcome to New Versailles."


End file.
